


Falling for you

by Bincxn



Series: Changlix Oneshots ♥ [9]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Regret, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bincxn/pseuds/Bincxn
Summary: Do you have any regrets? No? Changbin had thought so too.---Changbin nearly dies, and while he stares at Felix’s panicked face and hears his choked screams, he realises that he shouldn’t have pushed him away. He only has this one life, he should take his chances and for once not think about the consequences.
Relationships: Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Series: Changlix Oneshots ♥ [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899391
Comments: 12
Kudos: 137





	1. 40 m/s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did it end like this? Their day had been so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating is for second chapter which will have ~5k :>

“Do you have any regrets?”

No.

The thought is immediate, yet Changbin doesn’t answer. The last seconds of his life flash before his eyes and despite everything that happened, all he focused on was Felix’s face staring back at him in horror, his hand reaching for him in vain and his name that’s screamed in a tone too high and voice cracked.

Why did it end like this? Their day had been so good. Since they were scheduled to film scenes for a variety show, they drove into the mountains. The view was breathtaking. Everyone had been in a good mood and they had lots of fun. Nothing they did felt like work for a second. Towards the end, the last thing they needed to film was a ride in an old cable car. Nothing about it looked safe, but the staff assured them it would be fine and who were they to argue with them after the pleasant day they spent together?

Pairs of two were drawn, and he ended up with Felix. They were the last ones to go, got equipped with helm-cameras and strapped into their seats. As they waited for the ride to start, all he felt was dread. His legs dangled free. There was no floor or roof or anything at all: The construct was basically a flying seat connected to the cable by a lanky pipe. All he wanted was to get off, but Jisung and Minho had managed as well, and he didn’t want to let Felix ride alone. A burly guy fastened their safety belts and joked about not wanting them to fall – the wink that followed didn’t help him at all.

During the first half of their ride, everything was calm if not wonky. The view was amazing, with the sun setting, a pleasant breeze, and Felix holding his hand and squeezing it like an equally excited and scared kid. Below, the depth varied as they rode, but it was high enough for him to decide it would be better to not look down. Ominous creaking accompanied them, along with the hum of the old, laboured machinery at the connection point above. Far ahead, he spotted Minho’s reddish hair, while the car behind them was empty.

It had been a good time, if only because Felix was thrilled by the view, pointing and laughing and cheering him up with his antics. A little after the halfway point, it happened.

He isn’t even sure _what_ exactly happened, because it all occurred in the blink of an eye. He vividly remembers a sound, loud and foreboding. Felix’s hand painfully dug into his and they both yelped when the car suddenly jerked to a stop and swung until another sound, the one of metal breaking echoed around them: their car broke away and gravity took them. His free fall lasted for a moment only until his safety belt caught him and he was violently spun around.

It took him a moment to break through his panic and assess the situation; to see that he was only alive because Felix had the presence of mind to grab his safety belt. Why it was loose, he was unable to tell – it didn’t matter, anyway. What mattered was that Felix had saved his life and was screaming at him. Half English, half Korean, and Changbin’s hand gripped the piece of fabric connecting them so hard, he thought its imprint would forever be in his hands.

“I’ve got you.” The blonde yelled repeatedly, and the panic was so clear in his eyes, he knew he had been trying to convince them both of it. He didn’t speak, unable to form words. His body was twisted upwards and the only thing he saw was Felix, the remains of their car and the darkening sky.

He didn’t know how deep down it went, but he knew it was deep enough that he wouldn’t survive a fall. He stared at Felix, whose face was pained and panicked, but it all was catapulted into the background when a slight movement caught his attention: the safety belt attached to Felix was slipping out of its hook. The fall and chaos after twisted it and with his extra weight connected to it… it opened and slipped, which meant they would both fall. No one would reach them in time, they would both fall and die. He realised it right there, in that very moment… if Felix died, it would be his fault. He didn’t want Felix to die, not like this, preferably never.

“Your safety belt is coming loose, it can’t carry us both, let me go, Lix!” He sounded clinically neutral and rational, as if the consequence wasn’t his death. Fear numbed him. He didn’t want to die, but he wanted Felix to die even less.

The blonde denied him, told him he was crazy and that he would never let go. His small fingers whitened around the belt, so strongly did they clutch Changbin’s life between them. Felix continued babbling, reassuring him that help would come, that they would survive and just had to get through this, but it was obvious that he didn’t believe it himself.

He screamed and begged, wanting Felix to see reason, because he saw the blonde’s life literally slipping away – but Felix stubbornly ignored him. He couldn’t let it happen, he knew that and acted accordingly. With a breath, he emptied his mind and opened the hook connecting him to the belt that Felix was holding. An odd calm guided him, while Felix screamed, pleaded and cursed. With one hand, he pulled himself up to ease the tension on his belt and with a smooth motion, disconnected it from the hook.

A moment in which he held his own life in his hands passed. Felix cried, tears falling around him, and his heart broke. But what else should he have done? There weren’t any options. Either him or them. Their eyes stayed on each other, and he didn’t think, but concentrated on the blonde’s screams, wails and… let go.

Never did he hear a more desperate, panicked scream than the one Felix produced at that moment. The blonde’s voice cracked and morphed, filled with horror, and he never knew that the word “No” could be ripped apart like that.

As he fell, it echoed around him and his stomach crawled into his throat. His mind raced a mile per hour and yet it was blank. Limbs flailed around him, pushed up by the air and he panicked, but reached such a high level of fear, that it morphed into an odd sense of calm. It was as if everything happened in slow motion. He kept his eyes on the blonde, keeping them connected and absorbed every flicker of pained emotion that passed over his face – it transported him back and like a movie, all that they experienced together flashed before his eyes:

Their first meeting in a stuffy practice room, his awkward English and Felix’s equally awkward smiles. Hours spent together training his Korean pronunciation and rap. Fear of his elimination, the kiss by the river and his elimination. Countless spilled tears, his return, their debut and all the firsts that came after: Variety shows, award shows, MV filming, their first win, concerts, and other performances.

And despite their impact, most clearly were the silent moments not captured on camera: Hanging out, cooking food, countless of hugs and jokes. Their weird conversations and voices no one understood, or the knowing smiles and glances. Lazy mornings and friendly cuddling, the undeniable chemistry that flickered between them with every step and the obvious fact that Felix would have gone so much further than just friends if he would have let him.

He never let him, though. How could he have? It was out of question. In their line of work, even dating the opposite gender is a scandal. Who could fathom what would happen if any rumors of same-sex dating would come to light? Worse even, if it’s within the same group? The risk had been too great. Their careers would be ruined, their reputation down the drain. They worked too hard for their dreams to come true – their path never was easy and he wasn’t willing to make it harder for them.

No, it was logical to deny him, and Felix understood. No matter how much he pouted whenever he would reject one hug too many or would wind out of his clingy hands. No matter how disinterested he acted - they always hugged before going to bed, and it was enough. It was an arrangement he was able to live with, even though he was denying them something that could have been more. He knew it, and Felix did, just like everyone else. It was obvious, but not doing it was needed. He didn’t regret it for a second because that’s what he agreed to when he signed his contract.

But now? Now he regrets. As so often, he was led by good intentions – no one would deny him that. But when he fell? That moment when he saw Felix’s face morph into something so horribly desperate as he realised what was happening? That moment Changbin realised that his life would end and that they’d never have even the chance to let it happen anymore?

In that moment, he realised that good intentions suck. Contracts, limitations, cowardice and restrictions suck, but most of all repressing one’s feelings sucks. Only one life. Everyone only has one life, and he wanted to do so much, had a hundred dreams, and one of them was to live without regrets.

Not for a moment did he outright deny what could have been between them: No, this thing, this chance for more – he just postponed it to a someday far into an unwritten future. Chances pass by, though. They’re only available for so long, and if one didn’t take them, they disappear. This chance is gone, all his chances are gone.

Maybe he was always meant to die here, but if he took more chances, if he took _that_ chance, he would have died not having to wonder how it could have been. In those last seconds of his life, he cried, because he wouldn’t live. Wouldn’t fulfil his dreams, write music anymore, be with his family, be with Stray Kids and would experience nothing anymore. He would never see what it would be like to just let his feelings roam freely.

Wouldn’t know what could have been with him and Felix.

“Do you have any regrets?”

“Yes.”

.

.

.

_“Then wake up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! One more chapter will come soon! ♥


	2. My dream of loving you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Long time no see, I guess?” He rasps out, causing Hyunjin to gape. It looks hilarious. He laughs, but it hurts, so he reduces it to a gruff chuckle.  
> “You’re awake.” Hyunjin finally says, gawking as if his brain can’t quite accept it.  
> From the hall, other footsteps close in.  
> “Hyunjin? Everything all right?” It’s Chan. Hyunjin stumbles aside, forced by Seungmin, who enters.  
> “He’s awake.”  
> Chan forces them both aside and emerges in their middle, accompanied by Jisung, who squints over the elder’s shoulder. “You’re awake.” Chan, too, says. They all turn out to be sharing the same brain cell again.

He’s in pain. A steady beeping. He tries to open his eyes, but he can’t achieve it. His arms and legs don’t obey him, it smells like disinfectant and he’s warm.

His head is hazy, he panics.

Someone comes in and everything becomes murky.

.

.

.

Erratic beeping, he’s moving, but he can’t control it. Unable to see, to establish a thought. Hands grab him, force him down. People talk, it’s all gibberish. A jab of pain, his nerves ignite.

He ceases moving.

His mind becomes foggy, he sleeps.

.

.

.

Voices, talking. A continuous beep. He curls his fingers into soft fabric, his toes twitching with regained movement. They fixated his head, just a twitch of muscles hurt. Opening his eyes requires so much strength it expels the air from his lungs. It’s bright, the ceiling white. His vision blurs, he closes his lids, relief floods him.

The voices stop, something cool is placed on his forehead.

He falls asleep.

.

.

.

The ceiling morphs and warps under his persistent stare. It’s a mild shade of beige, not white. The room is mute, no sounds. A dull light in a corner some place behind him shatters the darkness, it’s comfortable.

He turns his head, struggling to examine more of the area, and trembles in pain.

What happened?

That’s his first coherent thought served to him by wakening pain.

And why does it hurt so much?

He marvels at these questions, twists them over in his head until, drip by drip, he recalls. Flashes of mountains, smiling faces, a blue sky. Free falling, dangling in the air. Screams, tears, and being weightless.

The sensation of dying.

Regrets that seized his last moments.

A dull beep reverberates in the room, it’s obnoxious and causes him to realise the sped up beat of his heart - terror settling. Before he can stop himself, he twists his head to the sound, discovering a machine flashing rapidly.

His veins warm soothingly, his head becomes light, vision cloudy.

The door opens, he sinks under.

.

.

.

The ceiling is still beige, but it’s not dark this time. His limbs are heavy, but he struggles to sit up, anyway. The movement hurts, the skin on his neck stretching painfully. He leans against the large pillow that’s partly propped up. The machine linked to him doesn’t produce a sound, nothing does. It’s peaceful, only his heartbeat drums in his ears from the exhaustion of moving.

Pictures line the walls, plants set up on a dresser, and three chairs rest next to the bed. The walls are a blend of yellow and orange. He recognises these colours: he’s in their dorm. The realisation is relieving, learning he’s home. In a safe place.

His lips are dry, his mind seeking to make sense of everything, stumbling to catch up. He peers down at himself, finding a baggy shirt that’s not his own. His fingers twitch under his command. He moves them, raises his arms, and discovers a handful of scars he can’t recall. The bedsheet is smooth, doesn’t weight down heavily on him, but as he works to move it, it appears to be made of stone. He manages somehow, laying bare scared legs. Touching them is odd, but consoling. It’s hot, prickles. He’s oversensitive.

Another touch follows the initial as he feels his chest, arms and face. Everything responds to him. It’s soothing. He notes his hair is lengthier than it had been and his neck is knobbly under his fingertips.

It reaches him, then. He survived. He’s alive – he lives.

It’s not panic, not quite. Still, his heart beats frantically. The machine beeps and he wants to curse, but his tongue is heavy and all he achieves is a pathetic croak.

A telltale warmth floods him, sleep edging his vision. Everything slows.

The door opens. He glimpses a concerned frown and falls asleep.

.

.

.

An orange light encompasses the room, painting the ceiling warmly. Voices talk next to him. He recognises them faintly as Jisung and Jeongin. A warm breath fills his lungs, smelling of rice and soup. With caution, he shifts his head but can’t escape the pain shooting up his neck. He locates his two friends discussing something. They don’t see him and he’s uncertain if he can talk, but he tries anyway.

“Hey…” His voice cracks, morphing the word into something intelligible – but it has the desired effect.

They turn, confusion written over their faces. His arm is heavy as he reaches out to them – Jeongin catches it, mouth agape.

“Binnie...?”

Their eyes water, he catches it thanks to light making them glimmer more than they should. His own follow suit, for whatever reason. They move closer, seeking a touch, and he wonders how a plain gesture can be so calming.

“Are you okay? Does something hurt? How do you feel?” Jisung fusses over him, barraging him with a thousand questions while Jeongin silently swipes away his tears.

“Felix?” Is all he manages, gravelly and painful. Fear grows in his heart, guilt at not having thought of him sooner.

“Lix is fine. He’s alive and unhurt. Everything is okay, you hear?” Jisung hurries to say, Jeongin pats his hand but it doesn’t matter because he’s already heating, like a fire spreading through him in the most pleasant way.

“Where…?” He slurs, hardly capable of keeping his eyes open.

“He’s home in Australia. He’ll be back, don’t worry. Sleep some more.”

A hand cards through his hair, another caresses his arms. It’s soothing, he sleeps.

.

.

.

The next time he gains consciousness, he’s less groggy, his limbs lighter and head clearer. To sit up is still a troublesome task, but he’s not entirely as out of breath. His body obeys more readily, and he hopes it stays that way. The skin on his neck aches and stings, it’s tender under his fingertips.

From outside, light brightens the room. The pictures on the walls doubled since he studied them last. Another chair, but no one that occupies them. He sits up a little further, going slow and steady, so the wave of dizziness ebbs off promptly.

Once he’s comfortable, he examines the machine next to him, noticing that it’s a different one. Smaller, less bulky. His legs itch, so he stretches and groans with the pleasant feelings it produces. Bones snap with the sensation of shaking off months of sleep.

The thought causes him to falter. That could be true. Time must have passed since… that day. Nothing in this room tells him the date, the time – no clock, no calender, not even his phone. He bites the inside of his lip and settles into the pillow. If someone would show up, that would be great. He has questions and needs company. He doesn’t want to sleep any longer.

In search of anything to aide him in getting attention, he checks the nightstand, the machine and lastly himself. He pauses at the clip slipped over his index finger that’s delivering his pulse to the heart monitor. With scant thought of the consequences, he disposes of it. At first, nothing happens. Even when the monitor shows nothing but a solid line. No sounds, no beeping. Soon enough though, he hears rushed footsteps, a commotion behind the door and something crashing, shattering.

It’s not long before the door rips open and Hyunjin stands in it, panting. Their eyes lock, Hyunjin’s facial expressions slip into one of pure shock. Changbin tries his best attempt at a smile.

“Long time no see, I guess?” He rasps out, causing Hyunjin to gape. It looks hilarious. He laughs, but it hurts, so he reduces it to a gruff chuckle.

“You’re awake.” Hyunjin finally says, gawking as if his brain can’t quite accept it.

From the hall, other footsteps close in.

“Hyunjin? Everything all right?” It’s Chan. Hyunjin stumbles aside, forced by Seungmin, who enters.

“He’s awake.”

Chan forces them both aside and emerges in their middle, accompanied by Jisung, who squints over the elder’s shoulder. “You’re awake.” Chan, too, says. They all turn out to be sharing the same brain cell again.

“You can say it more often.” Changbin says, slipping further into the pillow. A scoff later, Chan and the others crowd around the bed. He expects the onslaught of questions this time.

“How are you?” “My neck hurts, otherwise good.”

“Are you in pain?” “No.”

“Remember what happened?” “Yes.”

“Anything feel weird?” “No.”

More follow, Chan’s protective side shining through. When they’re satisfied with his well-being, silence settles upon them – he uses it to finally ask what’s been on his mind:

“How long?”

“Something around ten weeks.” Chan states, after considering the date on his phone. Changbin can’t decide what to think about it, unable to process it. A simple nod as an answer will have to suffice. With a sigh, he covers his eyes.

“Lix is okay?”

The answering silence would scare him, but Jisung had said he was fine earlier and-

“He’s okay.” Chan says, noticing his derailing expression, taking his hand in a soothing gesture. “He’s alive and unhurt. Thanks to you, Bin. If you hadn’t- If you- “Chan struggles, incapable to bring the words over his lips. Seungmin pets his arm, Jisung hugging him. Changbin doesn’t miss the sorrow he brought over them as he spoke of Felix. “Thanks to you. They got to him in time. He’s physically well, but…“Chan trails off, leaving the end open for interpretation. He gets the hint.

“He’s with his family in Australia. He should be back in a few weeks.” Hyunjin says, fidgeting with the chair in front of him. Changbin nods, gliding his hand over the blanket in thought. As much as he would like to have Felix here right now – just to confirm that he’s okay – it’s perhaps for the best that he’s with his family. He can’t… imagine what it must have been like for him.

Another brief silence. A handful of questions dance on the tip of his tongue, but Hyunjin speaks before he can.

“We saw the footage of the helm cameras.” He says, voice small. “We saw what happened. How you… and afterwards…”

Right, he had forgotten about those cams. Makes sense that they would watch it, still… It stirs the memory of Felix’s last scream in his mind – it’s painful, tearing at his heart. He craves to take him in his arms, squeeze him and reassure himself that they’re both alive and breathing.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He forces out, because the silence is upsetting and he can’t handle it.

Chan huffs, looking disturbed. “Are you stupid? Man, Bin, fuck.” He takes a step forward, thighs brushing the frame of the bed. “If you- When I saw how you lifted yourself out of your hook and then just- You just fucking _let go for Felix._ I can’t even- “Chan obsessively rubs his hand over his face and through his hair a few times. Exhaustion shines through. Changbin realises that he must have thought about this a lot, must have studied the footage until someone took it away from him and yet still, he’s unable to deal with it.

“I didn’t have a choice, but I’d do it again.” Changbin says, pressure of justifying himself on his shoulders even though it should be self-explanatory.

Chan’s face twists into an ugly mask of desperation. “Stop, no. No one of us will _ever_ take a ride like that again! No one. Got it? I should’ve said something, we shouldn’t have- “

“Chan, stop.” Seungmin cuts through his monologue, placing a hand on his nape. Chan’s rambling stops, but his stance doesn’t change, the stiffness stays in his posture. His hands ball, lips thinning.

“Fuck.” Chan spits, retakes his hand and squeezes it almost painfully strong. “What you did saved Felix’s life. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through, what you thought in that moment, but thank you. You risked your life for him and you- “

“Chan.” Jisung now pipes up, striding closer to the bed, “they’re alive. It’s all good.”

Chan stops, his hand slacking as he sinks into the chair behind him with Hyunjin’s guidance. Jisung finds Changbin’s eyes in a brief glance, holding his hand in Chan’s place. Their leader’s head hangs low, his fingers embedded in his curly hair. It all clicks into place, then. He’s blaming himself for what took place. Changbin should have foreseen it.

“It’s not your fault, Channie. I don’t blame you, so stop blaming yourself.” It’s as good as he can do, Chan's resulting glance is watery although pacified. Time – it’ll take time until he accepts his words, but it’s a first step. “Okay?”

Chan nods, retiring his gaze to the floor. Seungmin gives him a grateful nod. Afterwards they reposition themselves, Hyunjin and Seungmin sitting in the chairs, while Jisung takes the bed. It dawns of him after a few seconds of silence that they’re waiting for him – for his questions. Right, it’s not precisely as if he doesn’t have any… it’s more that he dreads the answers he’ll get.

“So… how bad was I?”

“Terrible.” Chan says, readjusting his head to capture his eyes, “doctors said you had a huge guardian angel. The trees lessened your fall. Your neck was harmed most.“

“Yeah, it was a bloody mess.” Hyunjin says, gazing at said body part. “You landed in a shit spot. A helicopter came for you… It was a race against time. If they reached you any later… “Hyunjin trails off, pursing his lips, not planning to finish that sentence. Changbin doesn’t require him to, he gets it. He would be dead. The information sinks in, but it's hard to swallow.

“And Lix?”

“He’s not good. I mean, he got better once it was clear you would live, but man…” Jisung plays with his fingers as he speaks, disturbed by what he remembers. “They had to sedate him once they rescued him. He was frantic.”

Yeah, fuck. Fuck, and then he was comatose for months… he did that to him. The need to hug Felix increases with this knowledge, but he’s incapable to, and it kills him. To get it off his mind, he asks something he probably shouldn’t, but…

“How am I not paralysed?”

Chan makes a strangled noise, paling as if he’s going to throw up. Seungmin pets his back, answering when everyone else remains mute with shock. “The doctors did their best, but you were mostly just very lucky.”

“It’ll take some time until you can walk though, and only with lots of therapy. That’s what the doctors keep saying.”

“That’s better than never walking again.” He quips. A mistake because Seungmin shoots him a disapproving glance.

“Binnie, please.” Seungmin motions to Chan, who looks haunted, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes.

He utters a brief apology. What follows is light small talk of what took place, of what’s coming. When he gets sleepy – which is far too soon for his own liking – they let him rest.

.

.

.

Weeks pass. Felix isn’t back, and Changbin spends every waking moment working on regaining his former mobility. It was hard to accept just how stiff and weak his muscles have become; learning to walk was hell for the first days they had cleared him to try.

They fill his days with doctor’s visits, physical therapy, and regaining a normal sleep schedule. His infusion is eventually removed. He moves back into his dorm room and takes a shower that is so refreshing; he stands under it for a solid hour and worries the shit out of everyone.

Eventually, he’s able to walk around without getting out of breath. Small trips are no problem anymore, but standing for longer than a few minutes is uncomfortable. He’s allowed to eat what he wants again and doctors eventually only show up to control his progress and most severe injuries.

With every day that passes, Changbin realises more and more how lucky he had been. Honestly, he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be alive. Not like this. He’s not sure what or who protected him, but fuck, he’s thankful.

At night, he sometimes lays awake and stares at the empty bunk above him. He misses Felix and all his mind has to offer as recent memory is his desperate face as he screams his name. Occasionally, he wakes up with the echo of it in his ears.

He wants him to come back. He wants to hug him, wants to make sure he’s okay and satisfy this need for closure and closeness that twists his stomach.

No one told Felix that he woke up, that he’s mostly good-to-go. He doesn’t quite understand the reasoning, but Chan insists its better this way. He won’t judge, wasn’t awake when Felix had been here, he’d only heard of how it was. So, he doesn’t write Felix even if he really wants to.

All he can do, thus, is wait for him to come home. Come back to him.

.

.

.

Soon, Felix will be back. The apartment is empty, and he’s still unsure why everyone disappeared, but he won’t complain. Denying that he’s glad about it would be a lie – he would have never openly asked them to leave himself.

A random series plays that he’s unable to focus on as he lounges on the couch. Blankets pile up next to him, accompanied by pillows and a pair of – what he believes – are Jisung’s fluffy socks. It’s been a long time since he was this anxious. He shifts, bunching the blankets around his hips, not knowing what to do with himself. He ruffles his hair once more, sighing at the stirring emotions flaring up.

Giddiness, largely. A vigorous amount of nervousness at what’s going to take place too. He’s confident he never needed to see someone as much as he needs to see Felix. Just the thought of being able to hug him, to keep him close, feel his warmth – see that he’s alive, that they’re okay – it causes his heart to yearn for him, drives him to twitch with every sound he hears, thinking it might be Felix arriving.

It seems like an eternity until the front door unlocks. He’s never been on his feet faster, bursting with all kinds of feelings as he lingers in inconclusive silence by the couch. Should he greet him at the door? Call for him? Oh god, this is absurd. He wipes his wet palms on his sweatpants and scrambles around the corner to surprise him.

How can he be so nervous? This is Felix, for god’s sake.

The door to the living room opens, Felix enters, dragging his luggage along. To see him drives Changbin to smile as much as it makes him want to cry. The blonde doesn’t discover him, and Changbin forgets to breathe as he takes him in: his hair tousled from the long journey, hands reddened and wearing Changbin’s black coat.

“I’m home!” Felix calls, scoffing when he receives no answer.

Changbin sneaks behind him, slinging his arms around Felix’s middle, drawing him flush against his chest. Felix gasps, startling in his arms, but doesn’t resist. Changbin hooks his chin over the blonde’s shoulder, nosing his neck and the short hairs growing there.

“Welcome home, Lix.” His words quietly brush against warm skin. The luggage falls to the floor with a thump, warm hands latching to his. A shudder wrecks Felix’s body, goosebumps forming under his Changbin’s lips.

“Binnie…?”

Changbin hums, burying his face between the blonde’s shoulder blades, seeking to deflect the fierce impulse to break down. He rubs his nose into the black fabric, inhaling Felix’s cologne that clings to it like a second skin. It does nothing to settle him. Felix’s fingers clamp around his and he takes it as his cue to give the blonde space to turn. The clothes slide under his fingers where he’s reluctant to let go as this freedom is used immediately.

They find each other with a desperation that punches the breath out of him. There’s grief, confusion, closely chased by hope and elation. Changbin has but a second before he’s encased in a hug too strong for him to breathe properly – it’s perfect. Felix is crying, he feels it on his skin and in the way his fingers shake before burying themselves in his shirt and hair. He nuzzles the blonde’s jaw, weaving his hands into the black fabric, enveloping his waist to tug him closer. It’s not enough, never close enough.

They remain in this position for a minute or two – Changbin sways them, trying to soothe. His legs ache by the time Felix releases his death grip, taking back a step that’s so short it can’t be counted as one. The tears keep rolling on his pale face, accumulating on his chin before descending to the floor. Changbin guides him to the couch, sitting down just shy of his legs giving out. Felix sniffles, stumbling closer, and ends up toppling onto his lap as if all strength left his body. Changbin catches him, draws him close and comfortable, only now discovering the entire impact of the past months:

The circles under Felix’s eyes are deep, face tear-stained and pale, exhaustion inscribed to it. His hair falls powerless onto his forehead, lips quivering where he attempts to keep in another sob. His heart twists at the sight.

With an unstable hand, he brushes his knuckles over freckled cheeks, loving the smooth texture left as the wetness disappears with his fingers. Defeated, the blonde’s forehead falls to his, a warm pressure bringing much-needed closeness. He resumes his ministrations, unable to stop his caresses. Warm, damp breath fawns over his cheek and lips, Felix rubs their noses together in a slow rhythm – back and forth.

“I was so scared.” Felix whispers after a while. “I thought I… watched you die…” Warm fingers play with the short hair at his nape, goosebumps rise on his skin in a pleasant wave down his spine and arms. Felix’s eyes stay locked on him, visibly drinking in his sight, observing him, the life that still beats in him. Words fail, emotions constricting in his gut, mind racing with so much to express, so many reassurances he could whisper as he wipes the blonde’s tears, but it wouldn’t suffice, nothing would.

Instead, he does the only thing that’s right at this point: he bridges the small distance to seal their lips in a kiss so overdue, the thrill is overwhelming, charging from all places their skin touches, to his fingertips and toes, his mind and heart, setting his body aflame. Felix whimpers against his lips, pushing back promptly, as if he just waited for this. He tugs at Changbin’s hair, forcing himself closer, shifting until no air is left between them. He tastes salt, nibbles on the blonde’s lower lip, biting down on the soft flesh because the sensation, the hunger – it’s too much to deal with.

He’s rewarded with a whine that’s not pacifying the onslaught of emotions at all. Felix bends over him until they fall back onto the couch. Not once does their kiss break, air hastily inhaled in the fraction of a second when they rush for the next touch. The blonde straddles him, keeping himself up with his elbows. He’s ruthless, desperate, and Changbin struggles to adapt to his pace, loving the salvation and closure. He twists his fingers into blonde hair, feathering touches over his skull and down his neck – until he receives a hot sigh against his mouth, and a shudder that wrecks both their bodies.

This is what he longed for. What he prayed would happen. What he wanted for years and had always forbidden himself to take. To have it now, experiencing it, the willingness, their mutual desperation, it’s mind-numbing, setting all synapses in his body alight, every touch burns, every kiss stirs the longing, the want that had been accumulating for too long. Now it rushes free, so intense that he gasps for breath between kisses, grips the blonde wherever he can, touching and anchoring himself, with his head spinning and Felix being the only constant.

Warm hands palm his cheeks, Felix sucks on his bottom lip, not allowing him to budge, to move. He doesn’t even try to hide the breathy moan, head spinning when a second later their tongues slide together, sucking, tasting, robbing him of all coherent thought, rendering him to a state in which he’s only capable of feeling.

For minutes, all he knows is Felix. Greedy kisses, hands that pin him down with more strength than he’s capable of resisting. Sighs turn to groans he’s unashamed of – everything is too much and just barely enough at all. When their lips do part, it’s not by much. Hot breath splays over his chin, he opens his eyes to dilated brown ones.

“You’re alive.”

A brush of their noses, “you won’t leave me again.” A demand, lowly breathed over his lips. “You’ll stay. You won’t leave.” Felix kisses him again, more subdued but no less forceful. “Promise.” Another kiss, Changbin doesn’t get to answer, lips occupied, air pressed out of him when Felix descends completely, giving up all pretence of space.

“Please.” A last plea, Felix lets up, the hand in his hair tightens.

Changbin swallows, hands reaching for the blonde. The TV illuminates his face just right, letting shadows play over his skin – he looks like always, like all the times they’ve spent on this couch, lost in each other and not the movies, touching but playing coy, wanting but resisting. History that stretches over years, emotions that endured endless rollercoaster rides. Sometimes he hated him for all he did to his heart, sometimes he couldn’t bear the adoration he harboured, nights spent in doubt and days in agony.

Now they’re here, and Felix is just as handsome. Just as that first day they met, or the day he realised his love. With a pale face, freckles, and an adorably small nose. To have him here, on top of him with their feelings laid bare and no more hiding, with all that happened between them, there’s nothing better than this.

Nothing.

“I won’t.” He kisses Felix chastely, roaming his hands along his body. “I promise.”

Felix exhales, retrieving Changbin’s hands, interlocking their fingers. His expression is a blend of so many things, Changbin gives up deciphering it in a heartbeat. “I love you so fucking much.” The words fall from Felix’s lips with repressed force, “please, just… don’t leave me. Never again. I can’t be without you, Binnie.”

He nods, because even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to form words. With his hands, he thumps away a few stray tears on pale cheeks, letting the touch linger. Felix’s attention falls off him, he’s biting his lip, eyes roaming down the length of his face until they settle on his neck. The touch of his fingers is cold as they graze the scarred flesh that spreads over most of it. It prickles, sending tingles through his body, making him squirm when Felix doesn’t let up, follows the outline of the scar up and down, until he removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips.

Open-mouthed kisses, licks and teeth scrape over his shoulder, collarbone, and neck, leaving behind damp patches of flesh, that the air cools only for them to be heated by another kiss, slight sucks that drowns out everything else. He gives up trying to appear unaffected, breath hitching, making Felix hum somewhere deep in his throat in turn. Their mouths find each other again, kisses chasing each other, groans and sighs swallowed up.

Warm fingers fumble their way under his shirt, roaming up and down, and Changbin follows suit, splaying his own hands over the smooth expanse of his back, caressing before discarding the shirt altogether. Cold air hits heated skin, Changbin groans in disappointment when Felix breaks their kiss, instead sitting up to explore the expanse of naked skin with curious fingers, bringing special attention to wherever he finds a scar, placing kisses on them with so much devotion, it makes Changbin swallow to not tear up again. Emotions like a coin, the two sides flipping easily.

He can’t say he didn’t expect it to go this way, but that it escalates so quickly, so rapidly with their raw feelings, with tears and messy emotions – it’s not surprising, to feel an unmistakable hardness pressing to his thigh, to hear a groan breathed to his mouth and to do the same in response, pushing until they both groan - it makes perfect sense, is the only logical consequence, the only right thing to do, to ease what they feel, their urge for closure and intimacy.

Unable to keep his hands still, Changbin grabs Felix by his hips, pressing him down, aligning their bodies for better friction. It coaxes a moan from the blonde, a sound so addicting he repeats the motion again and again just to hear the hitch in his breath.

Their pants are gone not long after, ripped off in a haze of naked skin and chaste kisses. They move together, seeking so many things at once it’s hard for Changbin to not lose his mind. They kiss, hands squeezing, pushing, and caressing whatever they can reach. Everywhere Felix touches, spikes of arousal rush through him, oversensitive by the moment’s height. Their underwear is soon gone, discarded on the ground, legs tangling in the blankets and bodies becoming one just from the mere space not existing in between.

Felix is breathing heavily against his jaw, thrusting into him until it’s not enough and too much at once. Their kisses are sloppy, Changbin pulls away just enough to ask for more, and Felix adheres with a moan so low Changbin nearly comes from the sound alone. It doesn’t take long after, because eager fingers are too warm against his sensitive skin, because Felix is too hot for his own good and because his voice sounds like sin itself whenever he groans or whines – it doesn’t take long, no, but it’s perfect, anyway.

They’re out of breath, panting in the aftermath of something that felt right. The blonde lies on top of him, face buried in Changbin’s neck, kissing lazily, rubbing his nose against his skin, and Changbin embraces him, hiding his face his blonde mop. His heart slowly calms, a sense of deep peace spreading through him. No nagging thoughts telling him how wrong it is, no fear of consequences, nothing but Felix’s naked body pressed to his, warm and alive.

It’s what he wanted for years. What he refrained of because he partly had to, but mostly because he meant well. Because he knew it could make everything so much harder, so much worse. But fuck that. Never has he been happier. Been more fulfilled and at peace than at this very moment. With Felix in his arms, with a future ahead of them. A future together. As it should have always been.

Changbin breathes a kiss to Felix’s temple and receives a squeeze and a pleased hum in return. His chest churns with affection, the need to keep him close. He does, even as they stumble to take a shower. Under the warm spray of the water too, when Felix kisses him again, when those brown eyes shine with tears once more. Changbin knows that he’ll never let him go – he couldn’t, anyway.

Exhaustion claws at them, starts to when Changbin dries off the water from Felix’s body, when those eyes stay on him as if to make sure he’s real. His bed is full of love and warmth as they cuddle close to share a single blanket. Felix falls asleep first, after kissing him, caressing his neck, and mumbling affections Changbin never believed he would hear. And as Felix sleeps, the exhaustion falls off his face, leaving a tired mask of sleep-relaxed features behind. A bunch of freckles, fine eyebrows, plush lips, Changbin traces them with the tips of his fingers at the brink of falling asleep himself.

The last thing he does that night is kiss Felix's temple and squeeze him, closing his eyes to listen to his breathing, to enjoy his warmth and the knowledge that they’re together as they should be.

He realises he’s still got a long way to go. He’s not healed completely, can’t walk very far, and sometimes nightmares that make him feel like falling into bottomless pits torture him. In his weakest moments, he entertains the thought of this being a dream, that he’s dying and his mind rushes to deliver all he desired in a single instantaneous dreamt up reality.

But then he wakes up and sees Felix next to him, supporting and smiling at Changbin as if he were the most precious person in the entire universe and he wants to believe this is real.

Another thing he realises is the fact that he’ll never die without regrets. Who even can claim something as stupid? Everyone has them. For him it might just be that when he dies, he wouldn’t be able to spend another day with Felix.

It’s not relevant though. He cheated death. It’s time to live this gift. To take his chances and do all the things he wants to do, but most importantly, to love Felix and keep him by his side.

For as long as this second chance at life will last.

Or until this dream ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look who it is.
> 
> I planned such a different ending for this and then it just felt wrong. Very, very wrong. And that's the whole reason this second chapter took so long. It made me struggle >:(


End file.
